The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-03-16

me, for 1 think boy who would do
that would grow 10 be man too good
TO hang"
"But Frank" said Bill, 'can you do
it and save yourself, for they might
hang you in my place, and I would
rather stay and take my medicine than
do that"
Never mind about that, Bill. Talk
low and we will arrange the plan. 1 will
cut your ropes and give you my knife.
In the morning I will be found asleep,
my knife taken, and you gone. When
you go down the caynon take my mule.
Be sure about it, for my life may depend
on that. He is the dun-colored one near
the stream; he wears horse-hair halter.
You can't miss him, but be careful. Then
make your way north. Bill, sell the
mule, and deposit the money to my
credit in San Francisco" The ropes
were cut and Bill was free, and, while
thanking D. and nearly crushing his
hand in saying goodbye, D. said to him:
Bill, l want to ask you one question
more-did you steal that mule?" " Yes,
1 did, Frank. Good bye and God bless
you for this" He made his way stealth
lily down the canyon and was off.
As morning dawned in the camp and
the miners began stirring, they naturally
looked to see their prisoner. There was
D. fast asleep on the ground, his knife
taken, the ropes cut and lying at the foot
of the tree, and the prisoner gone. There
was great excitement. Two or three ran
to D., roughly shook him, and, with
much profanity, asked him if he knew
the cuss had escaped. D. rubbed his
eyes in a sleepy sort of way, jumped to
his feet excitedly, and told the miners
that the prisoner must have seen him fall
to sleep, then had carefully taken his
knife without waking him, cut his ropes
and gone. The men we're very much en-
ragged. d. was made prisoner. Some
went so far as to say that D. ought to
swing in the outlaws place, and from
being the best liked man in camp he be-
came an object of contempt. He seemed
to feel very badly; he looked morti-
fed, and heartbroken over his
trouble. A pursuing party had been
sent out, but Bill had three hours
start, and it soon came back unsuccess-
full, but with the agreeable news that the
outlaw had stolen D. g mule, and they
all said: 1T served him right" The
cion against D., if any had existed, and
he was soon released with severe repri-
mand for his carelessness. But as D.
told me afterward, once or twice he was
pretty anxious, for he did not know
what his enraged comrades would do.
A month ago saw D. in New York,
where he now resides, and in the course
of our CONVEX. alton said to him: Gas a
matter of curiosity, D., did you ever get
your money for your mule" eyes, "
said D., "about six months later the
sum of $3.50 was deposited to my credit
in San Francisco by person unknown
to the bank, and five years later, con-
tInued D., going to the safe and handing
me letter, "Ireceived this letter, which
| have always kept as proof that Bill was
too good man to hang"
MAYORS OFFICE, -, Jan. 4, 1856.
MY DEAR FRIEND FRANK: l made my es-
cape as you know, and sold your mule for
SD 1t was the best l could do, Franz.
got the money and scraped together S25 more
and left 1t in San Francisco for you. The $25
was for the use of the mule-he was good
one. l then came here and have stayed. ] am
well off and am respected as a good citizen,
as shown by my election as Mayor last year.
You saved my life my dear friend, when
l deserved to die, so don't be offended,
Frank, when l tell you that if you or yours
are ever in want of a home or need dollar
you can always have mine and always count
on every cent have in tho world. Your
grateful friend, WILLIAM S.
l finished the letter and looked at D.,
whose eyes were moist as he said eyes,
and that man is one of the most promi-
nent, respected, and influential citizens
in the Northwest to-day. "-Ne,0 York.
Times.